


Bar Scene: Baseball and Beer

by Melthalion (kemelios)



Series: Bar Scenes [3]
Category: Sports Night
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-01
Updated: 2011-03-01
Packaged: 2017-10-16 01:01:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/166758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kemelios/pseuds/Melthalion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>"Bar Scenes" is a series of unrelated stories written long ago with three things in common: they're set approximately 10 years in the future, they feature a bar, they're about one or more SN characters.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Bar Scene: Baseball and Beer

**Author's Note:**

> "Bar Scenes" is a series of unrelated stories written long ago with three things in common: they're set approximately 10 years in the future, they feature a bar, they're about one or more SN characters.

"You want to grab a beer after?" Casey nodded in the direction of the field where the Mets were losing six to three to the Padres and raised a hopeful eyebrow. Running into Dan at the tail-end of a baseball game, a game he hadn't even planned to go see, a game his buddy down at news channel four just happened to give him a ticket for hours before, had to be kismet.

Dan set his mostly full plastic cup of Bud Lite down on the bleacher next to him and wiped the condensation from his hand on the leg of his shorts. "As opposed to a beer during?"

"As opposed to, yes."

"Flanagan's?"

Casey winced at the mention of the Irish pub, best known for friendly ogre-like drunks and a jukebox that hadn't been updated since early 2001, featuring thirty-two different (and yet oddly similar)Celine Dion hits.

"Hey!" Dan looked offended, "No wincing. It's in my neighborhood. Besides, some drunk broke the jukebox last Wednesday."

"Right. It was no doubt the sober designated driver who'd had enough nineties pop-diva."

Dan grinned, "I stand corrected."

No, I stand corrected, Casey thought, his gaze focusing on his former partner, his brain stumbling over their easy camaraderie despite being out of touch for so long. Dan's grin made his stomach clench with regret. I missed him. I've missed him for years.

Dan's smile faded as he watched the crinkle between Casey's eyes grow more pronounced. "So, how's Charlie?" he asked, looking down at the almost dry spot on the side of his shorts. God, it was hot out. Almost ninety-four degrees. Maybe a hundred on the metal bleachers. Only die-hard sports fans were watching the game at the ballpark.

Their strange telepathy worked as well as ever.

"He's okay. Graduated in May. He's going to Texas A & M this fall. Lisa moved down there with her husband a few years back."

"Jesus. Charlie lives in Texas? So do you fly out there much? I can't believe he lives so far away." Dan shook his head, "I can't believe Lisa moved him so far away."

"It's not so bad. I get him for two weeks vacation every summer and for Thanksgiving. Plus he's grown. He has his friends. He's gone from home a lot anyway. You know." Casey wiped the perspiration from his forehead with the back of his hand.

"I guess. So did he inherit his old man's bad taste in women?" Or in men? Dan wondered. They hadn't been in touch for ten years but his chatty Christmas cards from Natalie showed up in his email like clockwork every December.

"Her name is Susan. She wants to be a veterinarian. She cooks. So, no."

"A cooking vet named Susan. Alright, Charlie!" Dan's smile grew as he imagined his friend's son's life.

"He asks about you sometimes." When he calls and I'm too drunk to really hold my tongue.

"And you say?"

Casey ran a nervous hand through his thinning brown hair, damp with sweat. "I haven't seen Dan, well, except on cable, since they canceled Sports Night and he followed a job out to Los Angeles ten years ago. You know that, Charlie. Why do you keep asking?" And my voice cracks. And a few times I've had to dig my fingernails into my palms to keep from crying on the phone to my son.

There was a bitter note to Casey's voice that caused the little devil on Dan's left shoulder to whisper in his ear. "And to that he answers...?" His eyes locked with Casey's blues and he felt almost thirty again.

"I miss him sometimes, Dad." That's all. No mention of his dad's former closet. Or of the Dan-Rydell-lookalike boyfriends that freaked Lisa into moving their son out to Austin in the first place.

"I miss him, too." Dan picked up his beer and glanced up to catch the score. Still six to three, two minutes left in the fourth.

"So, beer?" Casey had always been an excellent prodder.

"Yeah. I've got some in the fridge. Let's just go to my place." Casey prods; Dan suggests.

"Yeah, okay." Casey stood up and held out a hand to pull Dan to his feet. They stood there a minute under the blazing summer sun, holding hands. Then Dan yanked his hand from Casey's with a grimace.

"Gross. I'm sweating like a stuck pig here." Dan wiped his hand on his shorts again.

"Mixed metaphor, Danny," Casey said, grabbing Dan's elbow and shuffling him down the aisle and out of the game.


End file.
